


A Roman in Britain

by Kadma32



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Binge Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting the Family, Neighbors, Self-Doubt, Shared passion for ancient literature, Slow Burn, different cultures, lots of coffee drinking, past trauma, student life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadma32/pseuds/Kadma32
Summary: Marcus is a first year university student from Rome trying to settle in his new life in the UK. The task is already challenging as it is, but it is soon made even more complicated by the arrival of his new, attractive and strangely grumpy neighbour in the student halls.As time passes and they get to know each other better, Marcus starts to realise that they are much more similar than he first thought.
Relationships: Marcus Flavius Aquila/Esca Mac Cunoval
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. First impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Please note English is not my first language and this work in unbetaed. 
> 
> This work will borrow a lot from my own experience as a Roman student in Britain. 
> 
> I have set myself this work as a challenge to build my skills in creating slow burn romance, so do let me know if you have any feedback :)
> 
> Please enjoy!

When Marcus woke up, his eyes were heavy and he was certain an elephant was sitting on his forehead. It had to be, that could be the only logical explanation for that horrible, pounding feeling every time he opened his eyes. His mouth was horribly parched and everything in him screamed “coffee”. But he couldn’t move. For a moment, he crushed up on himself, making a burrito of himself in his big, fluffy duvet. 

‘Oh, that must be how a hangover feels like’ he thought, as he passed both hands on his face, hoping to wake himself up a little but with no avail. 

He had always thought that reports of horrible hangovers felt were massively exaggerated in the movies, why would people do this to themselves otherwise? It had to be fun, right? And yet, there he was, struggling to lift himself up as his brain told him to just keep on lying down till this was all over while his stomach was protesting, shouting that he wanted some of that cold pizza that he had left in the fridge. 

Cold pizza? Wait, he didn’t have any memory of any cold pizza…

Wait, no, he did have some memories. They were all a bit fuzzy, but he was pretty sure that the night before, when he came back to the students halls with the boys, they had made a massive order to pizza from the local Dominoes and spent two hours laughing their heart out at how strange this “AngloSaxon” “pizza” was (we will not mention the whole pineapple on pizza debacle. Marcus was pretty sure he had actually tried a piece of it the night before but he was never going to admit it again in the light of a sobered up day. And he hoped nobody was going to remember that, otherwise goodbye to the pride of being a decent Italian). 

But that was what you got when you hung out with lots of other Italian students, right? 

Well, before you say “you shouldn’t socialise just with students from your own country” and bla bla bla, hold your horses, as Marcus’ current, “Italy centric” social circus wasn’t really his fault, the “Home” students weren’t on site yet, so far it was only foreign students involved with the International Students Welcome Programme, which was meant to be a great introduction to the British way of life.

Oh, and it had been a great introduction to one of the most British things Marcus could think of: the drinking. Not that Marcus had been tea total before, he had had his fair share of the so-called “shottini”, a series of alcoholic shots under the shade of Giordano Bruno’s statue in the middle of Campo de Fiori in Rome. 

But Italians don’t need to be drunk out of the heads to get loose and have fun, right? 

Well, he did, but that was another point.

The loud sound of things, heavy things, being moved around brought him back to reality. 

What day was it? Saturday, 28th September. Shit.

The Home students were moving in on that day! 

His phone buzzed. Damn, even the sound of the vibration on his bedside table made his head pound. 

It was a message from Lutorius. 

‘My roommate has moved in! And I already want to strangle him’ cue a long string of angry looking emojis, which was weird because Lutorius wasn’t the kind of guy to add those to a message. 

‘Why is that?’ Marcus typed, before managing to seat himself up. 

‘He has the most obnoxious laugh’ 

‘Could it be that you are just too drunk and the sound is making your head pound?’ he said, smiling to himself. He was quite glad that his uncle had spent a little more money and had managed to secure for him a single room. 

Although there was the problem of the room right in front of his. So far, during that week of peace and quiet, he had enjoyed having his rather secluded room, close to the kitchen (which was going to be a problem if they intended to have a lot of parties) but also close to a bathroom which he could basically use for himself. If the room right in front were to stay empty, that was. 

Gods, please let it stay empty. He liked his peace and quiet.

‘No. It’s obnoxious. I hate him. Weren’t British people meant to be quiet? They hardly open their months as it is’ 

Marcus smiled at the memory prompted by that sentence. He could easily picture himself, Lutorius and the rest of the gang gathering for lunch after the first days of lectures and laughing their heart out when each of them reported how strange it was that British people didn’t really open their mouths much, compared to Italians, with their big, wide vowels. 

‘Maybe you got the only loud one’ 

‘He also has a strange name. What kind of name is Cradock anyway? What happened to John, Tom or Luke?’ 

‘I think you are far too stressed. Come here, I am about to make a bucket load of coffee’ 

‘Lavazza Rossa?’ 

‘Of course, what do you take me for?’ 

‘I will be right there. Give me ten minutes’

Which was actually going to be ten minutes, as Lutorius was the only Roman he had ever met who was always on time. Well, except for Marcus himself, as he hated arriving late for anything and thought it was his duty to keep to his part of any arrangements. Did you make a date with a friend/crush? You arrive early. Do you have to catch a plane? He was known to have arrived about six hours in advance for his flight to Bristol. 

He managed to stand up and, braving the thumping in his head, threw a tshirt on, hoping that nobody would be too scandalised if he went to the kitchen with that and his dark blue pajama bottoms. 

He stepped out of the room and wished he had never done that. All around him, from the kitchen, a few steps away from his room, to the landing and the corridor leading to the other rooms, there were people moving things around, talking to each other about how their little darlings needed this or that. There was also a couple of men sweating like angry warthogs as they dragged a heavy looking sofa up the stairs, encouraged by a young looking lady with flaming hair. 

Avoid talking to people, his mind said. He was in no state to make any cogent conversation. 

Marcus managed to slip through the crowds unnoticed. Well, unnoticed, he did feel the eyes of a few young ladies and gentlemen on him, but, as everybody was far too busy with their own bits and bobs, nobody bothered him as he grabbed his moca, the Italian style coffee machine and filled it up with both coffee and water. He had brought two from home, one which was meant to do only two espresso cups, and another that was meant to do six. He went for the six, making sure to put more water than coffee. It was going to be a little closer to an Americano than he liked, but he did need to balance out the need for a bucket load of coffee with the need to prevent his heart, and Lutorius’, from exploding. 

He grabbed the cups (they were tacky souvenirs from the Colosseum, but, deep down, he loved them and he was sure Lutorius was going to have a laugh at them) and made it for his room. 

When he stopped on his tracks. To his horror, the door of the room in front of his was open. Well, more like ajar, but it was the same thing, right? Someone was moving into the room!

Now, what are you going to do, clever clogs? He told himself. He had read in a few articles about British freshers that it is the done thing to leave the door of their rooms slightly open to encourage others to come in for a chat. He could knock and introduce himself, right? 

And yet, that very moment, he could also just head for his room. A bit like a  
Schrodinger’s cat situation, right in that moment his new neighbour could be at the same time the nicest person and the nastiest. 

Come on Marcus, he told himself. 

You are not a coward, go and introduce yourself. 

So he charged forward and knocked on the door. 

‘Hello?’

‘Hello?’ 

It was a guy’s voice. Thank goodness. He didn’t have a problem with sharing a bathroom with a woman, no issue with that, but it was just going to be easier with a guy. 

‘Can I come in?’ he asked. 

‘Yes’ the other replied. Marcus opened the door, even though he was sure he had heard the noise of the other guy rolling his eyes. 

The room was similar to Marcus’, very spacious, to the point that Marcus was sure they used to be double rooms, before the University had opened the newer, fancier accommodation halls. Thefurniture was quite anonymous, just a bed, a wide desk and a wardrobe. 

His neighbour was standing near the bed, taking clothes out of a rather worn looking suitcase. 

There were no parents or older adults there with him. 

Not that Marcus cared. His attention was caught by the young man. He was shorter than him, but clearly well built under the jumper and jeans. He had a mop of unruly hair and sharp facial traits, and his eyes were just…

‘What are you staring at?’ the voice of the young man brought him back to reality. 

Marcus felt his cheeks warm up. 

Quick, quick, think of something to change the topic. 

‘I am your neighbour by the way. Marcus’ he said, extending a hand, even though it was still holding the cup of coffee. 

Idiot. 

The young man’s face crisped up in a very amused smile. 

I see, you are the sarcastic, cheeky type, right?

‘Esca’ the guy replied  
‘Esca?’ Marcus said, frowning, finding himself in a situation just like Lutorius. 

‘Where are you from?’ Esca replied, cocking his head to the side. 

‘Italy, Rome’ how did that have to do with the conversation they were having?

‘That explains’

‘What does?’ 

‘Your reaction. I know that Esca in Italian means fishbait, right?’ he replied, with a smug look on his face. 

‘Well, yes, I guess’ Marcus replied. 

May-day. He clearly should have gone back to his room. 

‘It’s a Celtic name. My parents liked it’ he went back to take his clothes out of the suitcase with a sour expression. 

‘Your parents’ Marcus started to say, not even sure where he was going to go with that, but Esca whipped his head up again.

‘Anyway, can I do anything else for you? Your coffee is getting cold by the way’ he said, quickly changing the topic.

Marcus, like the drunk idiot he was, looked down at the cups, which were still steaming, but the phone he had chucked in the pocket of his trousers was vibrating like nothing else. Lutorius was probably waiting downstairs. 

He was about to say something else to Esca when he realised that the “Your coffee is getting cold” was a subtle invite to move out of his way. Gods, it was going to take a long time to get used to the British subtleties. 

‘I will see you around then’ 

‘Yes, see you around’ 

Oh well, great first impression, right?


	2. When in the Silent Zone...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus navigates his first few days of lectures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note my Liathan is quite a bit OOC, but it serves my goals XD

The day after, Marcus got on the bus towards uni in the most complete silence. It was a little odd, in all honesty, but nonetheless he took out the yearly bus pass (which had cost him something ridiculous, like three hundred pounds or something) and showed it to the driver. He then found a place near a window and soon, all the other seats were taken, with quite a few students having to stand. 

But they were all in complete silence. 

Marcus was sure that he had never, ever, ever seen a bus in Rome so quiet, especially not one full of young adults starting out. 

He managed somehow to suppress a delighted grin. How many of those students were about to face their first day of university with the strongest hangover of their lives? Marcus looked around himself. Well, judging by the amount of people with big, dark glasses and huge travel mugs full of coffee, probably a lot. Well, served them right, the welcome party for the Home Students had lasted much longer than planned and many students had lingered around the gardens between a student residence and the other talking in very loud voices till very late. In comparison, the foreign students like Marcus had behaved like little angels during the International Students Welcome Programme, or at least they had not left the incredible quantity of paper cups around the park. 

Well, at least they were biodegradable.

Still, the silence was so strange. 

Have I made a mistake in coming to study here? He thought. It didn’t make much sense after all to go and study classical archaeology in Britain, especially if you are a born and bred Roman…

He clenched his fists. No, it had been the best idea he had ever had. He only needed to keep smiling through the pain. It was going to get better, right?

It was then that he noticed the guy a little further ahead. He was clutching the handrail with one hand and was quickly writing something on his phone. 

Marcus would have recognised him everywhere. It was Esca, his neighbour. 

Marcus turned his head around, hoping that Esca had not seen him since no, he had no intention of talking to him. The guy had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone, and Marcus was going to pretend the same. 

Finally, the bus arrived at the bus stop and a steady stream of students started to slowly get off. 

And each and every one of them thanked the bus driver, who might have grunted something at the first couple, but had since then lost all interest. 

Marcus followed suit, saying thanks to the bus driver, because, even though he really wanted to try to say “cheers boss”, like he had heard the natives say, it somehow still felt a little stupid on his tongue, while “thank you” was something he had practice since age three, when his mother was still there to teach him the importance of foreign languages. 

Marcus shook his head. It was very stupid to think back about a lifetime and a half ago right when he was about to start another. 

And yet he hoped, deep down as he wrapped himself against the already chilly air, that both her and his father were proud of the choices he was taking. 

He passed near the cemetery (who the hell had the great idea to have a graveyard right next to the university? His Roman sensibilities had shivered the first time he had seen that, as he was absolutely convinced that cemeteries had to be outside the main town) and then turned left, straight up to campus. He looked at his watch. Was there time for another coffee? The answer was technically yes, but coffee on campus cost an arm and a leg and he had already plans to go and meet with Lutorius and the others after the lessons at the Loaded Dog, where they were told drinks were half price that day for freshers. 

Could he really spend all that money? No, not really. His uncle was understanding and supportive, but he was quite money savvy and he would have asked for an explanation if Marcus would have needed extra cash. 

He couldn’t let his caffeine addiction have the better of him. 

So, duty bound to enrich his mind with culture, he made his way to the department of Ancient History and Archaeology, on the left side from the road coming up from the bus stop that seemed to cut the campus almost in half. Compared to the rest of the building, like the department Genetics, Geology and English-Lit, it was quite a small building, a very self-contained one floor construction. But that was for the best, right? If the year group was on the smaller side, there was more chance to make a lasting impression. 

He entered the building and found himself in a wide lobby. The walls were all covered by big message boards with pictures of the different professors, readers and teaching assistants, plus of some well deserving students who got prizes and publications. Thankfully, it was quiet, with only a young man in jeans and hoodie sitting on the two little couches left there in the waiting area. 

Quietly, Marcus took a seat. 

‘Excuse me, are you here for the archaeology lesson too?’ he finally asked. 

For a moment, the young man looked at Marcus with an expression of profound surprise, almost as if Marcus was wearing a pair of underwear on his head, but then he seemed to get over the shook of human conversation and said:

‘Aye’ 

And then he said something else. Marcus was sure the guy had said something, after all he had seen his lips moving, but Marcus had not recognised any word. 

Was he speaking English or some kind of foreign language?

‘What?’ he said, immediately feeling bad because he had recently figured out that it was rude to just say “What?”’, you were meant to say “Pardon me?”.

Anyway, Marcus was now staring at the guy’s lips. Not that he knew how to lip read, but maybe it could help a little.

The guy repeated the sentence exactly as before, ma this time Marcus was almost sure to have understood the word “lecturer” and “waiting”. 

‘Thanks’ Marcus replied. 

Ok, fair enough, let’s wait. Could he use that time to make acquaintances if not friendship with this guy? He looked at him from the corner of his eye. He looked so nervous that Marcus wouldn’t have been surprised to see him collapsing on the floor anyway minute now. 

How was it possible that British guys needed to have tons of alcohol in their veins to have the guts to make conversation? Ok, maybe he could move to talk to someone else, as more and more students were coming into the building. He had never really had any difficulties conversing with people, he was after all most beloved by all the old ladies in his part of Rome, who always seemed to like having a chat with him as they waited for the bus together. 

But somehow it seemed extra hard with British people. They seemed to either be drunk, and thus incredibly sweet and touchy feelings (or angry and ready to punch you in the face, depending how it had got to them), or distant but polite, like they said. Polite, well, at least until they noticed his foreign accent, then they just stared at his lips with a frown on their foreheads while they tried to understand a single sound. Ok, right, he had just done that with the tall guy on the couch, but it pissed him off when it happened to him, ok? After years and years of studying the language, it was a little annoying that he was still at that level. 

He looked around himself. Did he need to do the same thing as when he was in high school? Did he need to find the right circles? 

Marcus immediately stopped his search around the place when he noticed Esca, chatting quite freely with a young man and an older woman.

Marcus shook his head when a surge of anger washed over his chest. 

It was stupid, incredibly stupid. 

And yet, he was angry. How was it that he was all “no, I can’t possibly talk to you” with Marcus the day before, but now he seemed all nice and relaxed with those people. 

And why was even that angry? 

Well, rejection stings, ok?

In that very moment, the door of the lecture theatre opened but itself. 

‘Uuuuuh, spooky’ Marcus said, automatically, as if Lutorius was next to him and not the spooked Briton. But, to his surprise, the guy chuckled. Maybe there was a small chance for a decent acquaintance.

'I am Marcus by the way' Marcus said, stretching his hand. Make it or break it, right? 

But, luckily, the guy did take his hand and shook it. 

'Liathan' he said as they moved to follow the other students 

‘Originally from Inverness, but my parents moved early on to Liverpool. You?'

'Rome’ 

‘Wow’ Liathan replied. He was surely about to add something when the laughs of the other students distracted them. 

The lecturer was already in the theatre. 

And he was dressed like a Roman legionary. 

Wow, Marcus thought. No Italian university professor would have dared so much. 

Maybe, after all, this was going to be fun. 

Lectures continued till 2pm. Marcus was surprised by how few contact hours they had. Ok that there was the assumption that students were going to spend a lot of time in the library studying their sorrows away but considering all the money he was paying in tuition fees, they could give a little more. But hey, whatever. 

Now Marcus had a choice to make: he could either go back home, have a shower, maybe even a nap after all that excitement, and then get ready later to go and meet up with Lutorius and the others, or he could go to the library to study. 

And, for as much as the idea of a nap was appealing, duty called once again. After all, it was going to be quite relaxing as he knew that most freshers, strong of the knowledge that the first year didn’t count for the final mark, would probably not be spending much time in the library till exam time. Ah, the thought of staying in the library all by himself, surrounded by history books, was exactly like his personal heaven was going to be like. 

He went through the turnstiles and started to go up the stairs to the third floor, where most of the humanities books were gathered. 

Once he got there, he concentrated on searching for the books on the list the dressed-up professor had given everybody. So, his first essay was going to be on the problems that historians might face when using ancient, primary sources. Perfect, time to take up “A True Story” by Lucian, which at least was funny. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he entered the Silent Zone, a separate part from the rest of the third floor where anyone wishing to study had to stay in silence.

Well, silence. Marcus wasn’t entirely sure you could define that as silence, especially if you considered that most of the students working on their laptops were pressing on their keyboards so hard that they were making a racket. It was a miracle the keyboards were not smoking hot already. 

One of those crazy students was one Marcus was starting to think was stalking him. 

It was Esca. 

And, just because life was always very happy to make fun of him, the only available place to sit was right in front of his neighbour. 

Well, whatever. Marcus took the books he needed from the shelves and took his seat, after noticing that, right next to Esca’s computer, there was a huge Latin to English dictionary, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise. During the lesson, the lecturer had asked all freshers to lift their hands if they had five or more years of experience with ancient languages. Only Marcus and Esca had lifted their hands. 

‘Wow, for real?’ Liathan had asked him, with a mixture of admiration and envy. Marcus smiled at him but had not added anything while he wondered how was it that Esca had so much experience with Latin and Greek. Marcus had gone to the classical studies high school in Rome, where you are taught ancient languages from when you are fourteen and most people have already a smattering of knowledge prior to that. But Esca? If he had understood it right, classical languages were mostly the thing you did if you were some push, upper class kid, and Esca didn’t look like a daddy’s boy. 

Damn curiosity. 

Esca hadn’t even lifted his eyes from the screen (or maybe he had, in that very English way to look at someone without being seen, because meeting someone’s eyes is very dangerous, it could turn you into stone, don’t you know?) 

But Marcus was not British, and with the excuse that he was a bloody foreigner, he did get another good look at his neighbour. He had seen them right, those amazing, bright eyes. 

What he hadn’t seen before was the blue tattoo picking out of his dark t-shirt, as he had shed his jacked, considering how hot it was in that room. He couldn’t see the design, just a few lines poking out.

Marcus felt his cheeks warm up at the thought that he would have been just so curious to see what those lines were doing on Esca’s arm. And chest. Did he have any other tattoos?

‘Are you done staring? I mean, I know I am good looking but still’ a very irritate whisper brought him back to reality. 

Esca was glaring at him from behind the laptop screen. Marcus had never really, fully understood what an icy stare was. How could a stare be icy? But suddenly it was very clear as a cold shiver rushed from his nape all the way down his spine. 

‘Sorry’ Marcus replied, lowering his gaze. He opened the book and tried to pay attention. 

And before you say anything, he really did try. He looked at the first page, then at the second. He only read half of the third and by that point he realised that he was only letting his eyes run through the pages without really reading. 

Shit. 

Ok, think. Ok that one didn’t have to necessarily become friends with one’s neighbour, but it would be nice to reach a more decent relation, just so that if Marcus needed a bit of sugar for his coffee, he could ask him. Come on, think. Esca didn’t seem the kind of person prone to panic attacks like Liathan had seem, maybe he could talk to him without risking a rush to the A&E?

‘Look, me and a few friends are going to the Loaded Dog later after the lessons. You can come to if you like’ he said, trying to whisper in the quietest way possible. But he still got tutted by the girl sitting next to him. 

Esca bent his head to the side. For a moment he looked at Marcus very carefully. 

Was he pondering about the invite?

Damn you Esca, and damn your eyes, he thought, as he tried to look at everything else but his neighbour. 

Please say you will come.

‘I am sorry, I am busy this afternoon’ 

‘With the Latin dictionary?’ Marcus replied, before he could get a grip on that sudden sense of rejection, he had felt grip him. 

Gods, stop being such an idiot. What is happening to you?

‘It could be’ the other replied. Esca brought his eyes back to the keyboard, but Marcus didn’t miss the little curve of a smile on Esca’s lips. 

‘Did you study Latin at school?’ Marcus asked, trying to keep an eye on the girl next to him. How long was it going to take for her to send an anonymous message to the security guards, those people tasked with going around the library to tell people to shut up, because even the librarians could be bothered anymore. 

‘No’ Esca replied. 

That cheeky smile was still there. 

Was he being mocked? 

And why wasn’t he minding this as much as he should?

‘But you lifted your hand earlier’ 

‘Yes, but the answer to your question is no’ Esca lifted his eyes to meet Marcus’ gaze. 

That little curve on his lips was now a full-blown defiant smile. 

Beautiful, was the first think Marcus thought, right before someone entered in the Silent Zone to shout:

‘Silence please’ 

The two of them immediately lowered their heads, as if they had just received a reprimand from an evil teacher, then they looked at each other with amusement in their eyes. 

‘For what it’s worth, I really can’t this evening. Thank you though’ 

Then, after a moment of uncertainty, Esca added:

‘It will be for next time’.

Marcus answered him with a little nod. Maybe it was better that way, after the first day of lesson, a quiet evening with just friends and a few drinks would be good, just what he needed. 

Right?

Esca went away first. He would have left without saying bye if Marcus hadn’t lifted his eyes at the right time. Esca made a little nod, half a smile and vanished. 

Marcus managed to finish the chapter he was reading and left too. 

Ok, it was too early. He was sure that Lutorius didn’t finish his classes till five. Could he go and have a little bit of very early dinner? Maybe a snack? No, he had a lot of food back home and money doesn’t go on trees, right? If he was meant to waste money, he could just waste it later at the pub. So then, what could he do to kill time? 

Bloody Esca, he had really affected his concentration. If he could have just not had him right in front of his desk, he could have found his inner peace to hit the ground running with his studies. 

Well, what was done was done. It was his fault really, he should have behaved like a proper first year student, going home and having a nap. Instead, he went down to the ground floor where, right at the entrance of the library, there was a coffee shop, with cute little sofas and decent muffins on sale. He bought a hot chocolate (because, even though it seemed socially acceptable in England to have a latte in the late afternoon, he was still an Italian after all). 

Then he took a seat at a little table near the big windows opening on one of the main courtyards in between the uni buildings and, after detangling his headphones, called his uncle back in Rome. 

They hadn’t chatted in a bit. To be fair, they normally didn’t chat much, so Marcus shouldn’t have been surprised if the distance between them had increased as the geographical distance had increased. But still, considering that he was paying for his education, he really should be gracious enough to call sometimes. 

Bloody duties and expectations. 

It took a while (Uncle Aquila was not the best with modern technology, and that was an euphemism) but finally he picked up.

He just got a few pixels of his uncle’s face, and the video feed got interrupted. 

‘Hello? Can you hear me?’

‘Yes, I can still hear you uncle’

‘Can you hear me?’

Marcus didn’t reply, suspecting that there was a little delay in the connection. 

‘Ah, Marcus, how are you? Everything alright?’

‘Yes, yes’ and he told him about the lecturer dressed up as a Roman (making his uncle roar with laughter, as he had always found those very British behaviours extremely interesting and funny in equal measures) and of Liathan, with whom, he hoped to have a proper conversation sooner or later, especially considering that now they were in the same Greek and Latin seminar.

‘Good luck’ his uncle said. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘As far as I know, British students don’t study grammar, not even for their language, let alone for dead languages’ 

‘Oh my god, are we going to start from the first declension?’

‘Well, yes, probably, but that will make it easy for you, no?’

Well, hopefully, he answered, and he had the final confirmation the day after when he arrived at the seminar with a ferocious headache, after having clearly drunk too many cocktails at the Loaded dog the night before (but how was it his fault if everything was half price for freshers? And how was it his fault if every half an hour his friends were going around the table with new rounds of drinks? Not to mention that shots go down like water, when you get pressed by Lutorius to teach his roommate Cradoc and a new, Japanese student the rudest gestures that the glorious people of modern-day Rome had come up with? Ok that 45% of the Italian language goes through gestures, but still, modern day Romans had a lot of rather promiscuous gestures…)

‘So, let’s see, Marcus, right?’ the seminar tutor said, with a strident voice. 

‘What do personal pronouns have to be so funny?’ she asked, having clearly noticed Marcus’ goofy smile at the memory of the night before. She must have been some doctorate level researcher because she was too young to already be a lecturer, surely. 

‘Nothing, I am sorry’ 

‘You are the one with the five-year long experience in Latin, right?’ she asked, frowning.

Marcus nodded. 

‘Ok, please stay a moment longer after the lesson’ she said, before turning back to the blackboard that was clearly too big for the miniscule room where they had their seminar. 

Marcus exchanged a terrified look with Liathan, who seemed even more scared than him. 

At the end of the lesson, the other students, six in total, left, while Liathan said that he would wait outside for him. 

‘So’ the teacher said, with a certain gusto. She must have been one of those teachers that enjoyed making their students shiver in fear. 

‘I am sorry, this course is probably going to be too easy for you. I was thinking that, if you want, I can give you some extra homework, some more interesting translations perhaps. It could be fun’ 

Was she trying to convince him or herself?

‘I know that the other boy with experience is with Sergio, and he has already agreed to give him extra translations’ 

‘Do you know what texts he has given Esca?’ Marcus asked. His interest was suddenly reanimated. 

‘No, but I can ask. We could organise it so that you have the same texts. Are you friends?’

‘No, not really, but he is my neighbour’ 

‘Ok, so, if you can get the text from him for next week, we can use that. In the meantime, I will have a chat with Sergio, and we will agree on a schedule’ 

‘Perfect’ Marcus said, before smiling, saying goodbye and rushing outside. 

‘What did she tell you?’ Liathan asked, when they were far away enough from the room.

‘That she will give me and Esca extra homework’

‘Who is Esca?’ Liathan asked.

For a moment, Marcus found himself thinking that it was unbelievable that Liathan had not noticed Esca yet. 

Somehow, Marcus seemed to always be aware of Esca every time they were having lessons together.

‘The other idiot who has confessed to know a bit of Latin’ Marcus replied, already imagining Lutorius’ laughter when he would tell him that he had voluntarily agreed to have extra homework.

Liathan said something incomprehensible. 

‘What? No, wait, Pardon?’ Marcus replied, suddenly a little irritated. Why did he always have to ask Liathan to repeat things? If people expected people like Marcus to have a good level of spoken English with a clear accent, the same thing should be expected of the Britons, right? Damn double standards. 

Liathan rolled his eyes. Marcus was about to reply when he thought he understood:

‘Well, at least you can make some money out of that. I am sure lots of people might like to have tuitions’

How he had managed to say all those words in that strange blur was still a mystery to Marcus. 

Marcus crushed his nails in the palms of his own hands to try and calm him down. What was the point in getting so irritated with a guy who, deep down, was kind of nice? But what could he do, his irritation was growing in his chest since the tutor had mentioned Esca. 

And all because, the night before, as he came back half drunk, Marcus had gone near his neighbour’s door, not even sure of what he was going to say if Esca had opened the door. But he had stopped right before knocking, when the noises inside had one clear meaning. No, Esca was not going to come to open the door. Marcus had grinned angrily to himself when he heard the slightly louder moan of a woman. 

But the night before it had been a man. 

Bisexual, right? he had thought as he went to his room and slammed the door, throwing himself on the bed and falling asleep immediately. 

‘Marcus, are you still there?’ Liathan’s voice brought him back to reality. 

‘Yes, yes, I’m sorry. What did you say?’

‘That I think I have seen Esca at the first Game Society night. Do you want to join too?’

‘Game Society?’ 

‘Yes, I subscribed during Freshers week’ Liathan replied, biting his lower lip. 

‘It’s a group of students that meet up to play boardgames’ 

‘Like Scrabble?’

Liathan laughed. 

‘Tomorrow there is a pub crawl, do you want to come?’

‘But don’t you have to be a member to join the events’ 

‘Yes, but I am sure you can become a member there and then, I don’t think it’s such a formal thing. 

‘What’s a pub crawl?’

Daniel looked at him as if he was saying some kind of blasphemy. 

‘We all go as a group from one pub to the next, drinking and joking’ 

‘And becoming drunker and drunker’ 

‘And becoming drunker and drunker’ Liathan replied, who seemed to be so happy just at the idea. 

‘Come on, you need to come. It will be your British culture baptism of fire’ 

‘Oh well, if you put it like that’ Marcus replied, but smiled. 

It sounded incredibly scary and weird, but he was going to give it a go.


	3. The wager Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus wakes up to find a drunk Esca sleeping in the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We delve a little deeper into Marcus' past, with some hits at Esca's. 
> 
> And things are starting to warm up a little.

Marcus woke up suddenly. He found himself staring at the ceiling, with his heartbeat racing to new levels against his ribcage. He passed the back of his right hand on his forehead, finding it sweaty even though the temperature outside was edging towards three or four degrees Celsius. Feeling restless, he sat up and crumpled the duvet against his chest, trying to hide his face. 

Damn. 

Damn nightmare. When were they ever going to leave him alone? 

He just wanted a bit of peace and quiet, that had been the whole point of leaving Rome behind, right? 

And yet, it seemed that his problems were just chasing him, like a pack of angry wolves from the underworld.

You need to talk to someone, he thought to himself. His rational part that was always trying to find a solution for everything. But he didn’t want to talk to anybody. Who on earth was going to be bothered to listen to him? When he had moved to live with his uncle after…. well, he would have hoped that his uncle would have said something. Anything.   
But not a word had ever been said between the two of them about what had happened. And he had never mastered the courage to ask him to pay for therapy. Because that is not what manly men do, right? Therapy is for crazy people, and his uncle was one that believed the old ways were better.

Marcus hugged himself a little tighter as he listened to Lutorius snoring away loudly on the air mattress next to his bed.

Thank goodness he was still asleep. 

Thank goodness Marcus hadn’t screamt at night. It had only happened one night, to be fair, on the first anniversary of his father’s passing but he had screamt so loudly in his nightmares that Stephanos, his uncle's live-in carer, had rushed to Marcus’ room to check that everything was ok. 

Marcus felt himself blush at the memory of the old man trying to comfort him and failing miserably. 

That hole in his heart could never be fixed. 

He idly wondered if Esca would have come to help him if he had heard him shouting out loud like that. 

For as lovely as the thought was in his sleep deprived mind, he shook his head. 

It’s not going to happen. 

Kissing goodbye to all possibilities of going back to sleep (which was a real bugger considering that he didn’t have lectures or seminars at all till the afternoon), he quietly stood up and tiptoed out of the room in search of coffee and something to snack on before having a proper breakfast with Lutorius. He entered the blissfully quiet common area and, before slipping through to the kitchenette, he had a quick look in the living room, hoping that his assumption that the place was quiet was indeed right.   
He stopped on his feet as he saw that there was someone laying face down on the little, stuffed chairs around the living room table. 

It took him less than a second to recognise Esca. 

The first thing Marcus thought was that the idiot had drunk himself into oblivion and, once home, he had thrown himself on the chairs. 

The second thing Marcus thought was if it was only his impression, or Esca’s body wasn’t moving like someone in a deep sleep should be? In fact, was his body moving at all?  
Marcus got closer. He should check he was ok, right? 

Move, idiot, he thought as panic started to rush through his veins. 

He shook Esca’s shoulder as gently as he could. 

When Esca’s body moved, Marcus sighed loudly.

He was still alive. 

Thank fucking Jupiter. Or Mithras. Or whatever. 

Esca turned around and opened his eyes immediately, with a murderous, bloodshot shade in them. 

‘Good morning’ Marcus said, with half a smile, feeling like he was staring at a very, very angry wolf. 

Damn you and your incredibly expressive eyes. 

Ok, he had been an idiot to worry like that, but he was glad to see that Esca was still alive. 

‘What do you want?’ Esca asked, bringing an arm to cover his eyes as he still lied on the chairs. The clothes he was wearing from the night before were rumpled and his jumper was up enough on his stomach for Marcus to have a peak at Esca abdomen. 

What have I done to you, Mithras, for you to punish me so? Marcus thought, trying to shake his thoughts from Esca’s skin.

And yet, the skin of his own hands was burning. 

When was the last time he had touched anybody?

‘Nothing’ Marcus replied, crossing his arms to his chest.

‘I was just checking if you were still alive’ he added, finally bringing his gaze back up to Esca’s eyes. 

‘What do you care? You are not my mother’ Esca replied with a glare as he, slowly, sat up. 

Marcus frowned. The guy certainly had a way to push you with your back against the wall when he wanted to. 

‘No, that would be a tad difficult I suppose’ Marcus replied, keen to change the topic from anything even remotely close to family relations. 

‘But it would be very inconvenient if you were dead and rotting in our common room. Not to mention a gross waste of a nice body’ he said, before really thinking twice of what he was saying. 

As he saw Esca bending his head to the side to study him, he cursed all the gods in the heavens. When would he learn for once that he shouldn’t be allowed to speak before having his morning coffee? 

‘A nice body, eh?’ Esca said in a low voice, a cheeky smile appearing on his face. 

‘Also, don’t you have lessons today? Seminars?’ Marcus added, changing the subject. 

Act natural, don’t tease the beast further. 

Why was he always such a pathetic idiot in front of Esca?

Not that he had checked when the other language seminar groups were taking place. Esca must have thought the same, because that pleased little smile was starting to turn into a full-blown grin. 

‘Do you want me to make you some coffee?’ Marcus asked, finally changing the subject after noticing the bags under Esca’s eyes. 

Who have you spent the night with?

‘No, thank you’ the other, who still wasn’t giving any sign of wanting to move any time soon, replied. 

‘Are you sure? It is not a problem’ Marcus said.

‘No, thank you’ Esca replied, shaking his head and still looking at him like “I might bite you”. 

‘Let’s do it like this. I was going to make some for me and my friend anyway. You can, if you want, take some. Sounds like a plan?’

Esca watched him for a moment, uncertain. Then, without saying a word, he nodded. 

Marcus smiled, satisfied with himself and his strategy as he retreated in the kitchen.

The Brits would have really preferred the worst tortures than accepting anything perceived as pity charity. 

And he had the strong impression that Esca was particularly bad at that. 

Why was that?

What was in his past that made him so? 

Did he have the same gruesome past as him?

Get a grip, Aquila. Not everybody has a shitty past like yours and nobody wants to hear about your past trauma and fears. Nobody. All people want is to laugh at you. Little weird you. 

Lutorius appeared in the kitchen, still in his pyjamas but he had put on his big university hoodie, covering half of his face with the wide hood. 

‘Why are you awake already? We are freshers, we are supposed to stay asleep till like, ten at least’ he asked him, yawning as he watched Marcus putting the coffee machine on the hob. 

‘Let’s just say I am cursed’ Marcus replied. He liked Lutorius, he really did. But he didn’t trust him enough to tell him about his past. 

He didn’t trust anybody

‘Ah’ Lutorius replied, not having registered much of what Marcus had told him but his hands seemed to be much more awake than his body, as he started to fill up the three bowls Marcus had put out with the Cheerios. He didn’t even ask why there were three bowls instead of just two. 

‘Bring the milk’ he told him, as he moved to the living room. 

‘Ah, I am sorry, I didn’t want to disturb’ Marcus heard him saying to Esca, who presumably answered something at such a low volume that he couldn’t hear him. 

He didn’t hear any of them say anything else to each other as Marcus waited for the pot to boil. But it wasn’t a big surprise. For as chatty as Lutorius was, he didn’t chat much that early in the morning with people he didn’t know. And he could only imagine that it was the same for Esca. 

Esca. 

He was stupidly glad that he hadn’t changed his mind and left. 

Finally the pot boiled and Marcus filled the cups and placed them on a tray he had had to disinfect all over because the last person to use it had left it covered in some kind of sticky substance he didn’t want to know the origin of. He had also thrown in three, slightly stale croissants. Why? Don’t really ask, Marcus wasn’t entirely sure himself. 

Ah, he was sure alright. If it had been only Lutorius and himself, he would have kept to just milk and cereals. 

But Esca looked hungry. 

Was he eating alright?

As he put the tray in the table, he left the cup and the croissant on the tray. If Esca needed anything else, he just needed to say. 

‘So, what kind of hours do you have today?’ he asked Lutorius, and the two started to chat between themselves, as Marcus kept studying Esca from the corner of his eye.  
Lutorius understood the situation pretty quickly, because, as he chatted about how they would have needed to come up with some drinking game based on the second movie of the Lord of the Rings for him to even consider the idea of watching the second movie, his lips had curved in a mischievous smile. 

During their chats, without saying a word, Esca had got up from his corner and had moved to sit next to Marcus. Before stretching his arms to take what was offered, Esca murmured a quiet “thank you”, in such a barely audible voice that for a moment Marcus thought he had imagined it. 

Marcus was about to reply when he realised that, maybe, the best way to say “you are welcome” to Esca was to not say anything at all. 

Slowly, as they finished breakfast, Esca seemed to relax a little and joined in the movie related conversation, showing off some strong opinions of his own.   
If anybody had asked him later to repeat anything about those opinions, Marcus would not have been able to recall anything. 

His mind had gone blank, his brain replaced by complete, static noise as he just listened to the sound of Esca’s voice. 

He got back to himself when Lutorius kicked him in the shin. Marcus looked at his friend only to see him bending his head to the side, towards Esca, with a Cheshire cat’s grin on his face. 

Finally getting back to his senses, Marcus took that chance to ask him about the translation, because he really didn’t want to have to face that gorgon of a teacher without having done the homework he had agreed to do. 

‘What extra translations has your tutor assigned you?’ 

‘How do you know about my extra translations?’ Esca replied, frowning. His shoulders hunched a little forward. 

Marcus didn’t know what to say for a moment. How was it that whatever he said to Esca he seemed to jump like a hurt, angry animal?

Lutorius came to his rescue, by bursting out in his famous, wall vibrating laugh. 

‘You are certainly the suspicious guy, aren’t you?’ Lutorius said, before taking one, huge sip of coffee. He brought the cup down, wiped his face with the back of his right hand and added:

‘He is just another nerd, addicted to ancient stuff like you. His tutor was just lazier than yours and is piggybacking off your assignment’ 

Marcus wouldn’t have been able to express it in a better way. 

‘Would it be alright if I make a copy of it? We could work at it together if you want’ he said. 

Why was he not meeting Esca’s eyes? 

‘I don’t work well in groups’ Esca replied, straight to the point. 

Oh, well. Great. 

Marcus was about to ask him if he could at least make a copy of the homework when he saw Esca bite his lower lip, blushing ever so slightly. 

‘But we could sit together again in the Silent Zone and work there. I can make a copy for you’ 

Some demon must have taken possession of Marcus body and soul, because then he heard himself saying:

‘Sounds fair. That way you can ask me for help if you get stuck’

Esca’s eyes widened in surprise, before letting space for the cockiest grin Marcus had ever seen in his life. 

‘Ah, confident, aren’t you?’

‘Well, my...my native language is a direct descent of Latin. I got an advantage’ he mumbled, repeating in his mind the first and second noun declension on loop as he tried to stump out one very clear thought that appeared in his brain. 

I want to see you smile again like that. 

‘Yes, but you need to write the translation in English for your tutor, and English is my language’ 

‘Are you putting my English language skills in doubt?’ Marcus replied, crossing his arms to his chest. 

‘No, I wouldn’t dare, Roman’ Esca said, stressing the word Roman like it was some insult. 

But the cocky smile was there again. 

Gods.

‘But I wage that you will be the one asking me for help before the end of the day’ Esca added. 

‘Wager accepted’ 

‘Wait, what are you waging?’ Lutorius asked, his elbows on the table and all his fingertips touching each other. He only needed to say “Excellent”.

Damn you Lutorius, I thought you were my friend!

‘Are you going to the pub crawl tonight?’ Marcus asked without a second thought. 

‘What, the Game Society pub crawl?’ Esca asked, frowning. 

‘Yes’ Marcus said, trying to pull off the strongest poker face he could.

‘Didn’t imagine you liked games’ 

‘There are many things you don’t know about me’ he said, before taking the longest sip of coffee he could without burning his tongue. He had meant to say just yes, and that maybe his knowledge of ancient roman military would come in handy for some of those board games. 

He hadn’t meant for it to sound sexy. At all. 

But Esca’s cheeky grip was back. 

‘Well then. If you ask me for help, you will buy me a drink during the crawl’ 

‘And if it is you?’ 

‘Well’ 

Marcus was not expecting Esca to pause.

Marcus was definitely not expecting Esca’s gaze to stop for just a moment too long on Marcus’s lips.

Esca opened his mouth for a moment. Marcus watched him take a breath before collecting himself quickly and say:

‘I will buy you one’ 

One. Two. Three drinks. I hope you will spend the night drinking with me. 

‘Deal’ Marcus said, stretching his hand out.

Esca grabbed it and shook it.

Marcus felt Esca’s hand shake just like his.

They stared at each other a moment too long

Rosa, rosae, rosae, rosam, rosa, rosa. 

Esca shook his head first. 

‘I need to go and get ready. I will see you later’ 

Marcus and Lutorius stayed in silence for a moment. 

‘You like him’ Lutorius finally said. 

‘What?’ 

‘That guy. Esca’ Lutorius said, with a quick movement of his head. 

‘No, no, absolutely not’ Marcus replied. 

Yes. Yes. Yes.


	4. The wager Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Esca meet again in the library. 
> 
> A very important book is borrowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have the pub crawl chapter (when things will spicy up a little XD) up on Sunday.

Esca didn’t appear for their lecture. 

Fine, ok, after all the lecturer for that specific module was a guy with the most soporific voice, so maybe Esca had thought, if he was going to fall asleep anyway, he might as well stay home. Marcus couldn’t fully blame him. 

But he wasn’t anywhere to be seen around lunch time either. 

Not that you could ever be sure of something like that in the students union, considering the sheer amount of students sitting everywhere, even on the floor when there was not enough space to sit down and the weather outside was too rubbish to even consider sitting under a tree.

‘Oh, you miss him already?’ Lutorius said, starting to munch on his very overpriced panini as they sat down in a booth in the students’ union. 

Marcus looked at anything but his friend, knowing, even without seeing it, that he had his stupid, Cheshire cat smile on, probably growing bigger and bigger by the second, as Marcus felt his cheeks warming up.

Why was it that Marcus could not hide any emotion away? He sincerely hated that about himself, how everything he thought appeared on his face.   
It made playing poker extremely difficult. 

‘Shut up’ Marcus replied, immediately on the defensive. 

He really, really didn’t want to talk about it. He felt stupid enough by himself, he didn’t need Lutorius to “mettere il dito nella piaga”, stick his finger in the wound, like they used to say back home. 

It was stupid anyway to even think about it. 

Esca had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be friends with him, that he wanted to keep to himself and not get involved with his neighbour. 

And yet, after that morning, after the whole breakfast sharing and that little, whispered thank you, Marcus hoped that things maybe could change. 

Stop hoping. Hope is for fools, isn’t it? he thought, already feeling his body tensing. 

‘You know that there is nothing wrong with this, right? It’s kind of cute’ 

At that point Marcus did lift his gaze to meet Lutorius and shot him the coldest glare he could manage. 

Lutorius’ face relaxed a little in an expression of pity Marcus could really do without. 

‘Seriously, he probably just went back to sleep or something. He seemed pretty out of it this morning’ 

Marcus just nodded. Yes, that was the most likely scenario. 

And yet it stank. 

He was about to say with the most petulant tone he could master that the two of them had a wager to settle when Lutorius asked:

‘What do you like in him anyway? He seems so...well, angry’

‘I don’t know’ Marcus replied, hiding his face behind a huge mug of coffee, feeling suddenly a little shy. He never liked talking about his feelings with other people, and he suspected that, no matter what he was going to say to Lutorius, his friend was just going to ascribe his attraction for Esca to his fit body. 

How would he explain to Lutorius that he thought Esca, amongst everybody, could perhaps understand the void in his chest?   
Rationally he wasn’t sure, of course he wasn’t. He knew virtually next to nothing about his neighbour, besides that he had a Celtic name and that he really, really didn’t like mornings.

But there was something in Esca’s eyes, something that had resonated with him ever since he had barged into the young man’s room.   
He had the strong suspicion that a dark, gaping void was hurting right in the middle of Esca’s chest, mirroring his own. 

Esca was angry, just like Marcus was, deep down, terrified.

Pain calls on pain, right?

He said goodbye to Lutorius, who had a few more classes that afternoon, and, resignedly, he walked up to the third floor of the library, sneaking into the Silent Zone, which seemed quieter than normal, which was fair enough, who was going to the library on Friday evening? 

As he was about to go in search of a few more books he had selected from the reading list, the skin on his neck started to prickle. 

Someone was staring at him. 

Esca was there, sitting in the same place where he had seen him before, his laptop still in front of him and a big, heavy duty pair of Bluetooth headphones on his head. 

But this time he was staring at him. Waiting. His face, all angles and steel, didn't show any emotions. Was he happy to see him? Was he annoyed?

Marcus watched him take his headphones off. 

Esca’s eyes were still on him. 

Marcus felt himself blush.

Stop looking at me like that, he thought, feeling completely out of place. 

But he forced himself to move. This time there was a seat free right next to Esca, which Marcus didn’t know if it was better or immensely worse. 

‘I didn’t see you in lecture’ he said, as he kept his focus on his rucksack, taking out his notepad and the textbook he was still finishing, a Mary Beard special. Gods, he loved that woman. 

Esca didn’t answer immediately. 

‘Yes, sorry’

For a moment he went silent again. Then, as if he decided that Marcus deserved an extra bit of explanation, he added:

‘I fell back to sleep and arrived on campus a bit late. Didn’t want to disturb you know who’ 

Marcus smiled. Yes, the sleep inducing lecturer would only speak up when a student would arrive late and he was known for asking you very strange questions in Latin, which most students wouldn’t be able to answer anyway, making for a very uncomfortable and humiliating scene. 

But, surely, of all people, Esca could have been able to stand up to the challenge. 

‘I’m surprised you of all people are scared of Mr Sanders’ Marcus replied, looking at Esca from the corner of his eyes, curious to see if he could get another glimpse of Esca’s competitive grin. 

‘I am not scared of him’ Esca replied immediately, with a determinate tone in his voice.

And there it was. Without even realising it, Marcus smiled too. 

‘I just don’t want to look like a massive snob in front of the others. Most people are already struggling with Latin and Greek as it’

‘I didn’t imagine you would be one to worry about what others think of you’ Marcus said, feeling quite impressed at what Esca had said. Why would he care about people they even barely talked to?

‘There are many things you don’t know about me’ Esca replied. 

‘Anyway. This is the text. Aeneid’ Esca finally said something.

‘Classic’ Marcus said, trying to catch his breath as he took the photocopied page. 

And a classic it was. Esca’s tutor had selected a passage of the epic poem about Nisus and Euryalus, two friends on the side of the Trojan hero Aeneas who ended up dying tragically fighting side by side. 

He scanned the page for a moment, before turning back to Esca, catching him still staring at him. 

Stop looking at me. 

Esca then frowned, mumbled something about starting to work and put his headphones back on. 

Marcus relaxed a little and put himself to work as well. 

From time to time, he looked at Esca from the corner of his eyes. 

And, from time to time, he caught Esca do the same. 

For a moment, he was totally and completely happy. 

And then, right when his fogged-up mind had finally concocted a clever enough comment on the linguistic choices by Vergil and how well they conveyed the feelings of pain, Esca’s phone, that had been abandoned near the laptop, vibrated. Esca grabbed it incredibly quickly, but Marcus had had enough time to read the name “Cottia” on it. 

Who was Cottia?

Clearly someone important thought, judging by how red in the face Esca had turned as he scrolled through what looked like a very long message. Marcus tried to pretend that he was not fussed, that it was none of his business after all, because really it wasn’t, for as much as he would have wanted to ask who this person was.

Esca then started to put his things away. 

‘I am very sorry, I need to go now’

‘Oh, ok’ Marcus replied. 

Was this Cottia one of the people he had heard in Esca’s room? 

Gods, Esca looked even more mortified than he himself did.

‘Are you still going tonight?’ he asked, breathless, as if he had just finished running a marathon. 

Where are you going? What is going on?

Marcus nodded. 

‘Ok then, let’s say that I forfeit the challenge and you win. A drink for you tonight is on me’ 

‘Oh, well’ he was about to say that it wasn’t necessary, that they could just postpone the wager and then go for a drink another time, but then Esca said:  
‘Ah, I almost forgot’ 

And he took out of his bag a book, a paperback novel by the look of it. He passed it to Marcus with a look that, for a moment, took Marcus’ breath completely away: Esca was blushing furiously, the red clashing even more dramatically with his pale skin, and he seemed to be taking deep breaths. 

But his eyes were stern, glacial almost. As they looked at Marcus, they seemed to openly challenge him and say, “if you say anything, I will fight you’.

Marcus couldn’t take that look anymore and lowered his own eyes to the book. The title, in big, golden letters was “The Eagle of the Ninth”. 

‘What…’

‘To say thank you for this morning, I want to lend you this. Just read it. Then we can talk about it another time’

And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the Silent Zone, leaving Marcus with the two tragic lovers and a frigging passive periphrastic he had no idea how to translate decently.

Damn grammar. 

Before going back to the text, Marcus had a closer look at the novel, as he had never heard about it. The volume looked quite old, the pages were more yellow than white and there was a stain here and there. 

He smiled when he saw the names of the main characters. Esca and Marcus. Ah, what a crazy coincidence. 

Then, almost accidentally, his eyes fell on the first page, where someone, with a nice, curvy penmanship had written:

‘We will meet again beyond the sunset. Always.

Dad’

Marcus closed the novel immediately, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He felt, maybe wrongly, that he had stumbled on something incredibly private. 

And, for a moment, Marcus felt immensely honoured that Esca had lent him that book.


	5. The Pub Crawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One night. Two boys. A lot of alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay.
> 
> Enjoy!

After finishing the translation, Marcus went back home to get ready for the evening. He took a shower, a long hot shower, trying to wash away everything that was running around in his mind. 

So many thoughts. So many flashes of Esca staring at him. Of Esca looking at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. 

Those eyes. What were those eyes hiding? 

Marcus felt a shiver rush through his body. A pleased little smile appeared on his face.

Whatever they were hiding, they were looking at him. 

It felt new. And exciting like nothing else he had experienced before. 

He had never felt like this before, not even when the first signs of puberty were starting to kick in, because, compared with his classmates that were not talking about anything else than girls, he had never had time for such frivolities.

There was only a sense of duty that crashed everything else out of his mind.

There was his need to get himself sorted as soon as possible because, without any parents and with an old, ailing uncle, there is not much one can do but focus and be the best you can get. 

Be ready for when the next tragedy will fall on you. 

But now it was different, right? This first year of university was a new lease on life. 

Now he had the time. 

Now Esca’s eyes felt like freedom. 

But, as soon as he felt the excitement grow stronger again inside of him, his darkest fears rushed back.

Stop fantasising. The more you dream, the harder you will fall, he told himself. 

You will never be worth anybody’s time, he thought, the distant echo of those voices that were persecuting him behind his back. 

The son of a fraud. The son of a failure. 

You will never amount to anything in life anyway, no matter what you try to do. 

Marcus lifted his face to the strong jet of water. 

He was better left alone in the darkness. 

After the shower, he put on a pair of jeans and the best shirt he could find, and off he went. 

Only to come back in, grab his warmest coat and his lovely red scarf. 

He had agreed with Liathan to meet at the bus stop near campus before walking together back to the students’ union, where they were going to meet the rest of these people from the Game Society to then finally fit the bars. 

And there Liathan was, wearing just the official t-shirt of the event and a pair of jeans. Even though his hands were quite red, he didn’t seem too bothered by the cold. When he spotted Marcus crossing the road, he waved and rushed towards him.

‘Come on, we are late’ he said

‘Well, hi to you too’ Marcus replied. He was actually ten minutes early, Marcus never arrived late. 

‘Hi, hi’ the other replied, buzzing away with energy. 

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes, yes, I just want to introduce you to people before we are off. Let’s go.’ 

He wasn’t kidding. When they joined with the rest of the group, an incredible series of introductions started, to the point that Marcus asked himself why was Liathan even taking all that care, considering that Marcus was never, ever going to remember all those names. 

And then everything, suddenly, made sense when Liathan introduced him, aka Samantha, a beautiful girl who was fully aware of her grace. She was wearing the same t-shirt that Liathan had put on, but one could tell that, under the shirt, there was a very short dress. Marcus suspected that the t-shirt wasn’t going to stay put for long. To be fair to the girl, she was gracious enough to shake his hand and told him he was more than welcome to join their society. She was about to go back to her group when Liathan stopped her and tried to restart the conversation, his eyes shining as if he was looking at the most incredible treasure. She smiled back and answered appropriately, but her stiffened up shoulders were hint enough that she was a little uncomfortable. Was Marcus supposed to save her and bring his friend back to reality, because he clearly didn’t have a chance with her?   
Well, yes, he was supposed to. 

Did he do it? 

For once in his life, Marcus decided not to do the honourable thing and let the lady fight for herself. To be fair, she looked strong enough to deal with a nerd like Liathan while he looked around trying to spot Esca. 

He wasn’t there. He kept on looking and looking, after all there were some many faces all around him. 

Idiot. If Esca was there you would recognise him immediately. 

Marcus smiled sourly to himself. It was starting to feel like he was dealing with an elusive, wild cat. 

Anyway, whatever, he could still have fun with these nerds, no? He followed the gang to the Loaded Dog, with its low lights and cosy atmosphere, which felt nice, it was his home turf after all, after all the evenings spent there with Lutorius and the others. 

And, just like all those evenings, the volume grew louder and louder. And the amount of colourful shots grew and grew. 

Everybody was getting louder, even Liathan, who normally spoke so quietly was laughing aloud to the stupidest jokes Marcus had ever heard, even though Marcus himself was laughing his head off too. 

And that was only the first pub. 

After about forty minutes, Sam, freed from the stupid pub crawl t-shirt and with a megaphone she had gotten the gods only knew were, shouted:

‘Gamers!’ 

Raucous laughter. 

‘Finish your drinks that we leave in ten minutes’ 

‘Well, down it fresher’ Liathan said, pointing at the pint right in front of Marcus. 

It was still completely full, Marcus had literally just got it from the counter. 

And, somehow, this didn’t scare him like it would normally do. 

‘Challenge accepted’ he said, lifting his glass, pretending to make a toast before starting to drink as fast as he could, not caring much about the little rivulet running down his chin. 

For Mithra’s sake, how much beer was still there? he thought, as he kept his eyes on Liathan and the other guys that had stopped to look at the foreign fresher making a spectacle of himself. 

What would your uncle going to think? 

He was about to give up when he finally finished the pint. He then slammed the glass on the table and roared like a lion among the cheers of the others. 

‘Very impressive for a foreigner’ 

‘Well done’ some of them said. 

For some reason that his sober self wouldn’t have been able to explain, Marcus felt incredibly proud for those comments and for the pat on the shoulder someone gave him. 

‘Let’s go, it’s time’ 

‘Yes, off to the WalkAbout’ 

‘WalkAbout?’ Marcus asked, who had been sure that, by then, he knew all the pubs, bars and clubs in town. 

‘Yes, the one on London Road. Or Granby Street. Can’t remember’ someone said, before bursting out laughing.

In all of that, where was Liathan?

‘Anyway, you down it well, for a foreigner’ 

‘Where did you say you are from?’

‘Italy’ he replied, knowing that, on a few occasions, when he had said Rome, he had seen quite a few blank stares. 

‘Ah, is it true that you eat pizza the whole time?’

‘No, no, it’s pasta they eat’ 

‘Wait, how did you say it…. wait...ah! Ciao Bella!’ 

The three guys kept on laughing at a ridiculously loud tone. 

Marcus tried to smile at laughs.

It was funny after all, right?

No, not really. 

Tried to keep the memory of other laughs locked back in his mind. 

They had been funny too, right?

Even less so, he thought, as he clenched his fists, planting his nails in his palm to try and ground himself. 

What do you want to say to people like this, anyway?

Was he ever going to not be a national stereotype for people the moment he would say where he was from?

‘Cut it out idiots’ said a voice that Marcus was getting to know too well. Esca had appeared out of nowhere. Under the streetlights, Marcus noticed Esca’s blushing cheeks.   
It was cold that night. 

‘Shut up Esca’ one of the guys said, changing the subject already as they walked down the road with the rest of the group. 

Esca though didn’t move. He didn’t join the others. 

Marcus didn’t follow them either. Feeling his guts making somersaults in his stomach, he took a step closer to Esca. 

Esca, who, as Marcus approached, was keeping his gaze to Marcus’ lips. 

‘Thank you for the rescue’ he managed to say. 

The others by now had moved forward a lot and soon they would have to run to catch up with them. 

But Marcus had no intention of joining them if there were any other options on the table. 

‘No problem’ Esca replied, taking one step forward, entering arrogantly in Marcus’ personal space. 

Marcus stayed perfectly still, his muscles completely paralysed. 

Fear? Maybe. Self-doubts and insecurities? Of course. 

Excitement? 

Through the roof.

‘You came’ Marcus heard himself say.

‘Yes’ Esca said, his voice barely audible above the traffic around them. 

Silence. Esca took a deep breath before adding:

‘I am sorry I am late’ 

‘No worries’ Marcus replied immediately. 

‘Look’ Esca said, taking one more step.

He slipped his frozen hands in Marcus’ ones, making him shiver, but Marcus didn’t bat an eyelid. 

He was too scared that if he even closed his eyes for a moment, Esca would disappear. 

‘Would you like to’ 

‘Yes’ Marcus replied, breathlessly. 

He had not even allowed Esca to finish the sentence. He didn’t care. 

He watched Esca lower his eyes, smile in that barely-there manner he had when he was embarrassed only to raise his eyes again, looking straight at him before say:

‘Come’ 

They didn’t say a word to each other on the journey back to the student halls. Not that Marcus would have been able to hear, let alone understand, a word, considering the static noise in his mind. 

They didn’t look at each other. 

Esca sat near the window, his face completely turned to look outside, while Marcus tried to keep busy with his phone, going from one window to the next without really reading anything, but he needed to keep his hands busy, hoping that his heart would stop threatening to jump out of his chest. 

You don’t deserve happiness, he thought. 

Shut up. 

Once they were finally back in front of their rooms, Esca surprised him by saying: 

‘Are you still sure?’ 

Esca, that same Esca with the grumpy morning face and the cheeky, confident grin when it came to his language skills, was standing there, right in front of their rooms, trembling.   
Marcus smiled. Somehow, seeing Esca so anxious made him relax. 

‘I am’ he said, taking Esca’s hand and squeezing it. 

Esca avoided his eyes as he nodded and opened the door, letting Marcus in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that next chapter will be explicit, but you will be able to skip it, you just need to know that things will get spicy but not necessarily romantic.


	6. Esca's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys share the night after the pub crawl in Esca's room. 
> 
> And some revelations are made without words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter can mostly be skipped if you are uncomfortable with the erotic component in it. 
> 
> There is only one tiny aspect that might be necessary to know future chapters- please see end notes.

What the hell was he doing? Esca thought, as he slowly closed the door behind him. The cold metal of the door handle was almost painful against his feverish skin. He didn’t turn immediately to face the enemy, as his breathing was feeling too laboured to risk it. 

This situation was trouble. Serious, serious trouble. 

Before leaving for his first year at university, he had made a promise to himself that he was not, under any circumstances, going to create bonds of any sort with people.   
Because people leave. People die, go away or simply disappear. And they leave you to mop up after them and with a bleeding heart to top it all. 

Esca didn’t need people. 

For all he cared, they could all go and fuck off the face of the planet. He could fend for himself. 

He definitely didn’t need the fleeting friendship of some first-year students. 

He had Cottia’s friendship already, and that was already scary enough for how deep it went.

But now he had Marcus standing in his bedroom, only a few steps away from him in his own, carefully empty space. He could feel his eyes on the skin on his neck, heating it up while the rest of his body was shivering in cold fear. 

While his hands were itching to touch that warm body in the room.

That warm body with a kind soul in it. 

‘Esca, are you’

Don’t ask me questions, he thought and, before Marcus could say anything, before Esca could either talk himself out of this or try to convince himself that this was, after all, just a one night stand to satisfy an itch that had not let him sleep properly for a week, he covered the distance between the two of them, cupping Marcus’ face with both his hands and kissing him with a searing, violent kiss. 

Marcus’ body went completely still for a moment as Esca pressed his lips against his. 

Please, please, please, do something, Esca thought, as his hands moved down Marcus’ face to his neck and powerful, broad shoulders. 

And, right as Esca was pushing his lips once more against the Roman’s, Marcus finally, finally moved, passing his arms around Esca’s waist.   
A simple gesture, and yet Esca found himself moaning, as he rubbed himself against the other. 

Gods, he was already so hard, like some kind of schoolboy that could hardly keep it in his pants. 

It was all the stupid Roman. Esca had the strange feeling that this whole mess in his head had started right on that first day, when he had entered in the room with the coffee mugs and a stupid, sleepy smile on his face. 

Only to become even worse, when he had shown him the simple kindness of shared food and drinks. 

Stupid, stupid Roman. 

And stupid Esca too. He should not have brought Marcus into his orbit. He didn’t deserve the pain it would bring him. 

Was it ok to be selfish for once in his life, if the price was to hurt someone else? No, it wasn’t. 

And yet he couldn’t stop.

Not when Marcus, with slow, but certain gestures, was touching his face, neck and back and, finally, lifted his jumper just enough to place one of his broad, warm hands on the skin of his back, dragging him so impossibly close to his body. 

Esca was sure he was going to self-combust soon. His body arched against Marcus’, rubbing his erection against the Roman’s. 

Who was excited as much as he was. 

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Marcus asked, his voice low and hoarse as he seemed to try to keep himself rational, even though he, automatically and probably unconsciously, had started to rub himself against Esca’s erection, causing sparks of pleasure to fly around in Esca’s body.

‘Don’t you dare’ Esca replied, as he copied Marcus’ gestures and slipped his shirt out of his trousers. 

But he couldn’t limit himself to just the simple touch of his hand on the other’s skin. 

He was not a patient man. 

So, effortlessly, without Marcus putting up any sort of fight, he took off the Roman jumper and shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up.   
Gods, he knew he was attractive, he had suspected it since that very first moment, but right there and then, broad shoulders and muscular chest, it was a completely different story. Esca looked and looked, enjoying the look of his darker skin, of his nipples crinkling up in the cold room. Esca bit down his lower lip as he felt his member straining even more in his trousers. 

‘Dare you to touch’ Marcus said. 

Esca looked up at the other’s face, and his heart, for a moment, was on the brink of giving up all hopes to keep his body going. 

Marcus was trying to smile that smug grin he had seen on him in the morning, when it was all a competition on who had the best grasp on a stupid, dead language and all. But his eyes weren’t smiling with him.

He seemed unsure. His shoulders curving inwards under Esca’s gaze. 

Did he not know how handsome he was?

Without a word, Esca, fighting to slow his own body down, placed his right hand, palm open, on Marcus’ chest, right above his heart. 

Marcus sighed loudly as he arched under Esca’s touch, hoping for more. 

His breathing faltering, Esca lifted his eyes to Marcus.

They were both shaking.

Gently, Esca passed his other hand around the side of Marcus’ neck and, gently, kissed him again, taking his time to feel Marcus’ reaction. To enjoy the sounds of his quiet moans.   
He opened up his mouth and was delighted when Marcus opened his and gave him access. 

Then Marcus tugged at Esca’s jumper. 

‘Want to see you’ he said, his voice shaking and his accent thickening. 

You don’t, he wanted to reply. You shouldn’t see this, his fears shouted in Esca’s head. 

But his body acted on autopilot and, without a second thought, he stripped himself of his jumper. 

The jumper he had always kept on with other partners. 

He was not a patient man. No. But he was brave and angry, so he didn’t take long to finally face Marcus. Face the worry expression he was definitely going to see. 

But Marcus’ face was not worried. It was not grossed out. He was just looking, taking in all of Esca’s body.

All the scars peppering his chest that had always prevented him from enjoying the summer properly. 

All the tattoos on his shoulder. 

Esca was shaking, but didn’t lower his gaze, challenging Marcus to act. 

And the Roman, true to what he had shown of himself till then, took action, covering the distance between them and showing the bravery and kindness Esca was starting to associate with him. 

Marcus didn’t ask anything as he gently stroke his tattoos, following the designs and the letters with his fingertips.   
Esca watched him as the skin under Marcus’ hands was left burning. Aching to be touched again.

Marcus didn’t ask any questions as he knelt in front of Esca and proceeded to kiss the largest scar.   
Esca should have told him to stop, but his voice was long gone. 

Marcus didn’t leave Esca’s eyes as he, slowly, unfastened Esca’s belt and took it off.   
Marcus placed a kiss on Esca’s erected member right before lowering his trousers and underwear, leaving him completely naked and exposed, with a leaking cook and shaking legs. 

When Marcus’ warm, broad hand finally wrapped around his member, Esca’s voice came back with a rush. 

‘Fuck’ he said, as his back arched and the lower part of his body started to move automatically, trying to match Marcus’ slow but relentless rhythm causing waves of pleasure to wash over him. 

‘Yes’ he heard Marcus’ voice only distantly through the static noise in his mind. 

Marcus soon seemed to figure out that Esca enjoyed it most when he touched him from right underneath the head, upwards.

But he couldn’t expect Esca to be able to stand on his own legs as he continued on that terrifying, magnificent torture. 

‘Wait’ Esca managed to say. 

‘Sorry, did I do something wrong?’ Marcus replied, immediately stopping his ministrations and creating distance between them far too wide for Esca’s desires.   
Esca wanted to kiss him again and to shout at him for being such an idiot. 

‘No, of course not. But I do have a perfectly functioning bed. It would be great to use it if you don’t want me collapsing on you’ 

Marcus smiled, true and bright and fearless this time as he pushed Esca on the bed. 

‘I took my top off earlier. It’s only fair you take your trousers off too now’ he said, trying his best to sound cheeky and only sounding needy. 

Marcus hesitated for a moment, but then, without a word, complied, finally releasing his thick, straining member. 

Esca licked his lips as an extremely pleasant thought entered his mind.

And then he saw it, the long, angry scar on Marcus’ leg. 

What happened to you?

For the first time in forever, Esca saw in Marcus’ eyes the same insecurities he knew shone in his eyes too. 

But, at least for that night, he knew what to do. 

Esca lifted himself from the bed and, just like Marcus had done a few moments before, knelt in front of him and, gently, touched that angry line and kissed it.

‘Esca’ he heard Marcus moaning loudly. 

Neither of them could take that gentle dance anymore. 

Esca lifted himself up again and, taking charge, he was the one now to push Marcus on the bed, the top part of his heavy body on the mattress while his legs were outside. 

Esca opened them wide before kneeling between them. 

‘Esca, you don’t have to’ 

‘I want to’ he said, before planting a kiss on the tip of Marcus’ member. 

Slowly, he took it all in, all the way to the root, his nose hitting Marcus’ dark curls down there. 

It was hot, heavy and hard. 

It stretched Esca’s mouth.

It tasted like salt. 

Esca loved it. 

As an even louder moan from Marcus vibrated to Esca’s very core, he took himself in hand and started to stroke himself at the same rhythm he was applying to Marcus. 

Slow and relentless, like Marcus had started on him only a few moments prior. 

At least, till Marcus tangled his hand in Esca’s hair as he tried to impose a quicker rhythm with his thighs. 

‘Esca’ Marcus moaned again as he arched his back. 

Gods. This man was going to be the death of him. 

‘I am close’ Marcus said. 

So what? Esca would have said if not otherwise engaged. 

He was going to taste it, no matter was Marcus was going to think of it. 

‘Esca’ 

Marcus came first, spurting inside his mouth. 

And Esca drank it, as he listened to Marcus’ rugged breath. 

Esca came only a few moments later, his body collapsing under the weight of his orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Marcus and Esca see each other naked and learn of each other scars.


End file.
